


Compare and Contrast

by morganya



Category: Queer Eye for the Straight Guy RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-26
Updated: 2005-07-26
Packaged: 2017-10-10 13:12:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/100157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganya/pseuds/morganya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A rainy night. A thoughtful Thom. Shameless schmoopy sentimentality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Compare and Contrast

  
The CD was beginning to skip, an accidental electronic sample, the words repeating, "No conversation, no wave goodnight," over and over. Thom fumbled for the control on the bedside table and turned the stereo off.

"I thought that was part of the song for a second," Ted told him. He was more asleep than awake now, temples sheened with sweat, lips still parted and kiss-swollen. "A remix."

"Remix," Thom agreed. "More like an ancient stereo. This place is fallin' apart, Ted, I tell ya."

"Funny how easy it is to let everything go to hell," Ted said.

"I just need to be home more often."

"What are the odds of that happening, though?"

"_Excellent_ odds."

"You need a caretaker." Ted yawned. "A full-time, fully compensated..."

"That's why I've got you."

"Yeah, that's about right. Just wish the dental plan was better..." Ted's voice faded out.

It had been raining all night, rain pat-patting on Thom's windows, sky turning lightning-yellow from time to time. The dog had spent the better part of the time hiding under the couch in the front room; when the thunder let up he prowled around the apartment, checking into every corner to make sure the noise hadn't somehow gotten in. Now he poked his head into the bedroom and immediately went and laid down somewhere near the foot of the bed, the self-appointed guardian.

"Crazy dog," Thom said softly, and Ted made a low questioning sound and twitched beside him.

"Settle down, Ted," Thom said and ran his hand over Ted's hair, too short and fine to really run his fingers through, almost like kitten fur.

"I'm _settled_," Ted said, and then promptly conked out in the crook of Thom's arm, sighing.

Laughing to himself, Thom rolled over onto his side, trying to get into a sitting position without waking Ted or giving himself a cramp. He thought about turning out the light, but he felt too comfortably lazy to move any more. He put two fingers on Ted's arm and watched him sleep.

He liked watching Ted sleep; he got to do it so rarely, given that he generally fell asleep as soon as he got into bed and Ted tended to sit up for hours obsessing about things. He should be grateful for this opportunity.

Sometimes Ted fell asleep by degrees, one minute talking animatedly about one thing or another, then slowly fading in and out, his voice turning to a drowsy purr, then struggling out of it and continuing on until he was almost talking in his sleep. To Ted, sleep was a battle, to be surrendered to at the last possible moment.

Asleep, Ted laid like a doll, imperturbable and still, whatever nervous energy he'd been working off during the day burned away, leaving him seeming almost fragile, the shadows around his eyes turned violet, with fine smile lines around the corners. He seemed younger and older all at once, his features brought out into focus.

He thought of Ted as a study in contrasts, so different from his own broad, unsubtle lines: sharp, clever face, strong Irish nose, dark heavy brows, soft eyes and mouth. Sharp bird bones and the slight frame that Thom envied. Ted always seemed baffled when Thom bitched about gaining weight, or moaned about wanting to be smaller. Ted had always wished he were bigger, with broad shoulders and massive hands.

Thom shifted; Ted obediently rolled over without waking, resting against his shoulder. Thom stroked his face carefully, feeling the soft skin under his jaw and tracing upwards, the pads of his fingertips brushing against the scars on Ted's face, the dent over his left cheekbone, the smooth circle under his lower lip. Like marks on white paper, another texture of his face, as neat and fine as Ted himself.

Ted had spent most of his life comparing himself with everyone else, as if he were only a collection of parts - these shoulders, these hands, this face. It always made Thom want to wrap him up, hold him together, just until he could see himself as Thom saw him - entire, complete, whole.

He lay in bed and stroked Ted's forehead with the palm of his hand, while the rain pat-patted outside, making tiny metallic clinks as it hit the windows. Ted stirred and squinted at him.

"Were you starin' at me?" His voice was thick, half-curious and half-amused.

"Well. No?"

"_Terrible_ liar," Ted said knowingly. Laughing, he shifted over, fitting into the empty space by Thom's side and falling back to sleep.

Thom wrapped his arms around Ted's waist, feeling him breathe against his skin. He wanted to spend all night this way, wrapped up together in his house, safe and whole.


End file.
